


I May Have Drank Slightly Above Too Much

by himboking



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dennis Reynolds POV, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Fat Mac, Feeding Kink, M/M, Weight Gain, ed dennis reynolds, ptsd dennis reynolds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himboking/pseuds/himboking
Summary: dennis gets drunk and gives fat mac the praise he deserves
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	I May Have Drank Slightly Above Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for my other fic but i wrote dennis too sappily for so early on so im just posting it separately

Dennis considered going to the bar, once he finally sat in his car. But then someone would ask why Mac wasn't there, or they'd speak to him at all, Dennis realized, which he had absolutely no desire to allow to happen. So instead he drove to a parking garage he often found himself at, driving to the very top before parking on the edge. It had a nice view, and despite what numerous signs suggested, there was no security in place. The top level was entirely empty on this night, which was lucky. Usually there were a few cars, though never any people, so Dennis didn't particularly care either way. He got out of his car and walked to pop open his trunk, shuffling around various bags and empties before finding a bottle of Gin he always kept at least two of in his trunk. He had no intention of returning to their apartment that night, so he was free to drink as recklessly as he so desired— not as if that would change much. He wouldn't go as far as to say he drove well drunk, but he could do it just fine. But tonight he was staying put. He had enough blankets in the back to sleep at the parking garage. It was something he did often. When he got angry with Mac, or everyone, or sad, or had regrettably passionate sex. That thought brought his mind back to static, so he brought the bottle to his lips and downed a third of it in one go. Not as pathetic as Mac chugging the 2 liter, he thought, once again against his better interest. 

Dennis brought the bottle to his lips once again before flinching at the smell— it's funny, the whole apartment was overflowing with food and Dennis still forgot to eat that day. He should've grabbed something, but then again, God knows everything Mac ordered was just laden with calories. He was fine without. More for Mac, anyway. He took another pull of gin, gritting his teeth as the liquid hit his empty stomach. 

He did this for awhile; looking out at the view, drinking gin, thinking about Mac before remembering that he was not thinking about Mac, thinking about the day before remembering that he was not thinking about that day. He did this until the bottle was emptied and he felt drunk enough to fall asleep quickly, not having to get stuck with his thoughts. Dennis stumbled a fair amount getting into the back of his car, and was out pretty much the moment he locked the door and laid down.

Dennis woke up in the morning still drunk, with a stiff back and a slight hangover. He got back to the apartment without issue, and walked in to find that Mac wasn't home. He expected as much— Mac typically was at the bar by this time. Dennis typically was as well, but he didn't particularly feel like working that day. Not that he was avoiding it, or anyone, Dennis just simply needed some time to nurse his hangover, obviously. The apartment was pretty much all cleaned up, the trash that littered the room before was mostly all gone, minus a few plates still out. Dennis felt a twinge of guilt, imagining Mac lumbering around, cleaning up the place alone. But, he reminded himself, Mac made that mess entirely on his own. Dennis had only encouraged him a little bit.

He wasn't quite sure what to do. Dennis felt like shit. He really didn't want to go to the bar, or anywhere, for that matter. It was too early to return to sleep. He felt too sick to feel like eating...he sat on the couch to think, which turned into thinking about Mac, which turned into thinking about the night before, which all came together to form into a desire to drink. As soon as he sat down he was back up again, walking into the kitchen to analyze their current selection of liquor. 

It wasn't that he wanted to get drunk alone in the middle of the afternoon. There was just no use going into work with a hangover like this, and he needed to eat at some point, so he might as well have some vodka to get his appetite going again. Besides, everyone knew the best cure for a hangover was to drink until you're too drunk to feel how shitty you're actually doing. It wasn't the smartest solution, per say, but it was the fastest and easiest. It was the next logical step, Dennis assured himself. It wasn't that he couldn't deal with the buzz ending, or that he had any particular reason to dread being sober— he had no problem with sobriety. He'd have plenty of time to be sober later in the day, Dennis would have a few drinks, have some lunch, and he'd sober up by the time Mac came home. If he came home at all. Not that Mac or him had any reason to avoid the apartment, or avoid anything for that matter. Everything was fine. Everything was just fine. 

Three and a half hours later, Dennis found himself a little bit absolutely wasted, but he definitely did not have his appetite back. If anything, he had an appetite...for more booze. He chuckled at his internal monologue before setting three shot glasses in front of him, pouring vodka into each one. He wasn't at the bar, sure, but that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun with his alcoholism. The shots went down easy, much easier than they've should after a day and a half without eating. He was probably hungry, somewhere. He should probably eat at some point. He poured a few more shots. 

Another hour passed, and Dennis found himself remarkably drunk. He could really drink when he put his mind to it— or, more accurately, when he was trying to keep his mind off of something. Dennis had now moved onto rum, and was in the midst of taking a shot when he heard the door close. Oh. Of course Mac was going to come home eventually, but Dennis figured he'd be passed out by then— or sober. He was supposed to be sober. He was supposed to be passed out. But here he was. Not passed out. Very much awake. Very much very drunk. Not that drunk? He could be sober. Sober. This was him being sober now. He put his arm on the armrest of the couch and leaned onto his hand...soberly. Very...soberly....

"Dennis?"

The only problem with his sober performance, however, was that he was currently surrounded by bottles and shot glasses. Oh...he realized, how the tables have turned...Dennis reynolds had been caught in a binge all of his own. 

"Hello...Mac." He said, entirely soberly.

"You've been..."

"Hanging out." 

"Hanging out?"

"Mhm."

"Okay." Mac sighed. He'd seen Dennis this drunk many times before, it wasn't that bad, but he knew it was for Dennis. Dennis hated losing control of himself, which one would think would make him generally avoid getting blackout drunk, but it never seemed to occur to him before it was too late. 

"How was...the bar? Any...uh..." Dennis began gesturing wildly, "Schemes?"

"Well. Charlie spent a fair amount of the day ranting about the rat population—"

"THE RATS!" Dennis responded, far too loudly before quickly shaking his head and adding on, quietly, "Too many rats, I hear."

"Oh, you're really drunk, huh?"

"Hmm...could maybe a bit. Tiny." Dennis' eyes narrowed before he added on, slowly enunciating, "I May Have Drank...Slightly Above Too Much."

"Okay. Have you eaten?" Mac asked gently.

"No." Dennis paused, "Yes. Totally." He added on quickly. 

"I'm going to get you something to eat."

Dennis made a noise vaguely resembling some words from the english language before laying down on the couch.

Mac headed to the fridge, assessing his leftovers for something easy, ideally tasteless. The closest thing he could find to his criteria was fries, which wouldn't typically get past Dennis' radar, but he was drunk, and Mac knew he likely hadn't eaten in awhile, so fries would do. He brought them over to Dennis, setting them on the table next to his head. He let out a grumble in response.

"When's the last time you ate?" Mac asked.

"Mm. Doesn't matter."

"It kind of does matter, Dennis..."

"Who cares...come here."

Mac didn't say anything.

"Come on." Dennis repeated, "Lay down with me."

"Dennis I don't think—"

"Come Onnnnn..." He drawled, opening his arms up.

Mac bit his lip, unsure of how exactly to proceed. He knew Dennis hated himself like this, but it was hard to resist the warmth Dennis offered while drunk.

"Mac." Dennis sat up, propping himself up on his elbows, "Come here."

"Maybe we should get you to bed..."

"MAC." Dennis announced loudly before dramatically falling back onto the couch, "COME. Fucking...here. Come on."

Mac sighed, sitting down on the couch next to the other man.

"Are you...fucking....Mac. Come....on." Dennis twisted around, wrapping his arms around Macs waist in an attempt to pull him down into a lying position. This, of course, failed, because even if Dennis wasn't drunk, or if he had eaten at some point since early the day before, Mac was still double his size. Nonetheless, Mac let himself be pulled down into Dennis' arms, choosing to enjoying the warmth radiating from his drunk body.

"Mm...there we go." Dennis hummed, pulling Mac closer and burying his nose into the crook of his neck, "Here he fuckin' is..."

"Where'd you go last night?" Mac asked carefully, figuring he might as well see what his roommates been up to. Not like Dennis was going to be reflecting on this night.

"...Secret." He breathed hotly onto his neck, "Fun...sexy little secret..."

"Okay... you've been drinking awhile, huh?"

"Bit...bit of a binge, huh...like you..." Dennis suddenly moved his hands to Macs stomach, pushing up his shirt. The warmth radiating from Dennis' drunken state did not extend to his hands, which were freezing against Macs bare skin. He jumped a little at first, before leaning into Dennis' touch. It was always strange, when Dennis drank like this. Mac didn't know what to make of his drunken affection. It wasn't something they talked about— at least not while sober anyway. Speaking of, Mac thought to himself, he had no business being this sober while Dennis had all the fun. Mac leaned forward, pouring himself a few shots while Dennis made vague noises of protest, trying to pull Mac back into into his arms.

"Come on." He slurred, "Be m' little spoon."

Mac felt his face turning red— both from Dennis' invitation as well as from the rum he was slamming back. He poured himself a few more shots, downing them before carefully replying, "Are you...sure?"

"Mac." He replied, drunk frustration obvious in his voice, "You're hot but stupid."

Mac said nothing, his face heating up even more before Dennis added on, "So. Fuckin' stupid. Come on."

Mac swallowed and put back one last shot before finally giving in and laying down in front of Dennis, who muttered, "Finally..." before wrapping his arms around the other man, one snuck under Macs neck and the other draped over his waist, snaking his hand underneath his shirt onto his bare belly again. 

"So...you think I'm hot?" Mac ventured, deciding to give in to the fleeting courage the rum provided.

"No." Dennis laughed into his neck, "Gross. That's gay."

"I'm gay." Mac said simply, "You're—"

"Hot." Dennis completed simply, "You're definitely gay...like...you're like. Fuck. Like a bear now." The hand on Macs stomach was lightly stroking his skin, leaving a warm tingling feeling in its wake. 

Mac didn't know what to say. Dennis typically loses his filter once he gets above one bottle, but he rarely gets this open, or this openly affectionate. Mac found himself waiting for him to snap, for himself to say something stupid and for Dennis to get angry with him, or annoyed, or anything. This playfulness felt like a minefield. One wrong step and...

"With the fatness, y'know." Dennis apparently took his silence as an invitation to keep talking, "Is that what you were going for? You don't really have the muscle but—"

"I do have the muscle!" Mac interrupted, "Have you seen my arms? They're huge!"

"I mean. Yeah...they're huge...'cause you're huge...with fat."

Mac was going to continue arguing with him, but Dennis continued, "Fits you though. Looks good."

Macs eyes widened. Dennis hadn't complimented him in months. He hadn't said anything remotely positive about him or his appearance, in fact, every other word from Dennis' mouth was an insult. He had spent the entirety of Macs gain practically spitting on him, he hated the extra weight, at least, he did before. 

"You really think so?" Mac finally asked quietly. 

But Dennis didn't respond. His hand on Macs belly had stopped moving as well.

"Den?" Mac ventured again.

But there was no response. Mac then became aware of Dennis' breathing on his neck, which was evening out now. He'd fallen asleep. Figures. Dennis Reynolds says the first nice thing he's said in months and the effort knocks him out cold. Or the booze, Mac remembered, looking around at the empties surrounding them before his gaze centered on the plate of fries. Dennis hadn't touched them. 

Mac sighed before detangling himself from the other man's arms, getting up to clean up the mess. He wanted to stay there on the couch forever, of course, to listen to Dennis' gentle breathing and bask in his warmth. But Dennis was sure to wake up in a horrible mood, especially after not eating. He'd go get him some protein shakes, Mac decided, after cleaning up. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be there when Dennis woke up, anyway. He wasn't excited for Dennis to see him while sober.

**Author's Note:**

> if u like this tell me tbh.....im still new 2 writing fic and comments make me write like a mad man lmao


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